Two Crocodiles by Fyodor Dostoevsky and Felisberto Hernandez

These are two longish, but still short, short stories, that have nothing in common expect they both are about, in some way, a crocodile.

The Dostoevsky short story, “The Crocodile: an Extraordinary Incident”, published in 1865, seems to have been a tossed-off work in order to provide content for the magazine Epoch, a literary magazine started by Fyodor’s brother Mikhail in January 1864 after an earlier magazine titled Vremya (Time) had been banned. Fyodor Dostoevsky was heavily involved in both magazines, with Mikhail handling the publishing duties and Fyodor providing content. Epoch’s first four editions published Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground. Mikhail died suddenly in July of 1864. Dostoevsky continued the magazine until February 1865, with “The Crocodile” published in the final edition.

“The Crocodile” dates itself very exactly in the opening lines of the story, “On the thirteenth of January of this present year, 1865 at half-past twelve in the day…” (I read a Constance Garnett translation). A mid-level government functionary, Ivan Matveitch, with a free afternoon because he’s scheduled to travel out of town the next day, is convinced by his wife Elena Ivanovna, to visit a new attraction in town: a German entrepreneur is exhibiting a crocodile at the Arcade, a kind of shopping mall, in St. Petersburg. A family friend, the narrator of the tale, Semyon Semyonitch accompanies them. They arrive at the Arcade and see the crocodile. While Semyon and Ivanovna are distracted by some monkeys, also on exhibit, Ivan provokes the crocodile and is swallowed whole. Semyon’s first reaction is to be glad that it didn’t happen to him. The German’s first reaction is to worry about his crocodile, whom he calls Karlchen. Elena’s first reaction is to have the crocodile killed to save her husband. But here, at first, seems to be the central conflict of the story: is it fair to the German to ruin his livelihood in order to save the life of a man, especially at a time when Russia is hoping to advance its economic prospects by attracting foreign investors?

And then, astoundingly, Ivan’s voice is heard from inside the crocodile. He isn’t dead, but is alive, quite comfortably, inside the crocodile’s belly. A crocodile with a live man inside is an even more profitable commodity to the German (and his wife, who is also involved in the enterprise) so the German is even more adamant that the crocodile not be killed nor will he sell it. For his part, Ivan is only concerned that his employers will be upset. Ivan, from inside the crocodile, suggests that Semyon go see a friend of his Timofey Semyonitch to ask for advice.

Chapter Two, Semyon consults Timofey. Timofey suggests that possibly Ivan’s employer could be persuaded to commission Ivan with a small salary to give reports on the natural sciences based on his experience inside the crocodile. Chapter Three, Semyon visits his friend Ivan inside the crocodile at the Arcade. Ivan is enthusiastic about the idea of him giving reports of his experience, imagining that the circumstance would even increase his profile, as well as raise the status of Elena, who could now position herself as the wife of the famous intellectual swallowed by a crocodile. He imagines the salons that Elena could host, and must now prepare herself for, and that he, inside the crocodile could be brought to the salons to lecture for the guests on his latest observations. He insists that Semyon bring the newspapers with him to discover how his case is being reported.

Chapter Four, the next day, Semyon visits Elena. She has already been visited by a romantic rival, Andrey Osipitch, and is contemplating her new life. She speaks of divorce. She finds Ivan’s suggestion that she host salons and display her husband inside the crocodile as ludicrous. But she does like the idea of him making more money than before, and the dresses she could purchase to show off at her salons. Semyon reports to his office and reads the news stories. One paper reports that a man visited the crocodile exhibition and insisted that the crocodile be cooked for his dinner. The paper imagines a new industry for Russia of catering to these exotic foreign tastes. The other paper insists that a man deliberately forced the crocodile to swallow him because he needed a comfortable home amidst a Russian housing shortage.

The story ends there. It seems unfinished. It’s all quite silly. There is a hint of cultural and political critique. There is moral critique, too. The characters are remarkably callous toward the fate of Ivan, swallowed by the crocodile. Selfish and national economic issues are consistently raised above humanitarian interests. But Ivan, too, prefers the future life he imagines possible from inside the crocodile over the life of the obscure bureaucrat he had been. The story seems a half-backed page-filler rather than a serious work.

The second story, seemingly included to fill out a still very slim volume, is titled, “The Crocodile” (translated by Esther Allen). I did not previously know the author, Felisberto Hernandez, from Uruguay. But I’m glad to know him as he’s recognized as the father of Magic Realism. He lived from 1902 to 1964. This story is from 1949. There is no actual crocodile in the story. Rather the story is of a pianist (as was the author) who seeks more steady income by taking up a job as a salesman of lady’s stockings. At first he has no success. And then he discovers that he can cry, convincingly, and on cue, “crocodile tears” as it were, and the sympathy that his tears provoke induce people to buy. He earns the nickname “crocodile.” The weeping overtakes him and his entire life becomes a sham. It’s a lovely story: strange and sad.